Belgian Breakfast

Maastricht

I always enjoy travelling in trains, especially if I am sitting by the window. It makes me want to look out, to watch the world pass by giving plenty of time to think, retrospect and contemplate. The yearning for such state of mind pushed my friend and I to go on a long and impromptu train ride to Maastricht.
Traversing the narrow and gorgeous alleyways just outside the busy city center, is something I can only describe in pictures

Etretat, France

During one of the long weekends a close friend and I went out on a 2000km long drive towards the french coast starting from Amsterdam. Etretat was the first stop where we hiked on the gigantic cliffs overlooking the coast of english channel which except for the complete absence of waves looked no different from an endless ocean, for it stretched far and beyond the visible horizons.

This was my second trip there. The first time I ended up there, I was on an unplanned and impromptu solo trip that came to be after I had gotten a free upgrade to a Mercedes-Benz and I spontaneously decided to divert from the original plan of just driving along the dijks to go a little further towards Belgium, the french border and eventually to the french coast in Normandy.

Flea Market at Straße des 17.Juni, Berlin

Talking about Berlin with friends brought back memories from the trip I took there last December. One sight that stood out the most was the Flea Market at Straße des 17.Juni – which was filled with vendors and hawkers in old clothes and soiled jackets – selling antiques, jewellery that appeared used, decorative objects which could not hide their age, used kitchen items, other articles of assorted shapes, colors and sizes – all setup neatly on creaking wooden tables and beaten down benches. There was something very unique about them. A common style was that they were all out of style.

The rays from low afternoon sun, piercing through mild winter fog to light up the day evoked a feeling of time being stuck in a forgotten era. I couldn’t help but wonder – Where did these come from? What did the broken photo frame have in it when it was hanging? Who was the original owner? What fate had befallen on him that his once valuable possessions are now valued dime a dozen? A momentary recollection of history associated with the country sent chills down my spine.